


Solo Saxophone

by suchanadorer



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode: s05e10 Abandon All Hope..., F/M, Missing Scene, Prompt Fill, SRS 2012
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-15
Updated: 2012-11-15
Packaged: 2017-11-18 17:31:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/563612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suchanadorer/pseuds/suchanadorer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><a href="http://srs2012.dreamwidth.org/3911.html?thread=62535#cmt62535">Prompt at SRS:</a> <i>The world's gonna end bloody and Jo just wants to dance on the table.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Solo Saxophone

Shot glasses crash to the ground and shatter as Jo climbs up onto the table, legs shaky with whiskey and exhaustion. The table wobbles underneath her and she throws her arms out to the sides for balance, but then everything settles, and she turns away towards the window, red-faced and grinning.

“Turn it up!” She crows to Dean, who rolls his eyes but obliges, turning the dial on the stereo.

She’s so drunk that Dean wonders if she remembers her self-righteous proclamation about self-respect, the one that’s getting dashed to bits as Jo rolls her hips and threads her fingers through her hair. That also means that she’s too drunk for Dean to be able to make another attempt with her, so he decides that he’ll just have to be satisfied by watching the show she’s putting on. No harm in looking.

She bends her knees and arches her back, showing a slip of pale skin where her tank top rides up on her waist. She’s a beautiful girl, but Dean is torn between seeing her as a woman with soft curves and come-hither stare, and as a girl, barely old enough to even know how to dance like that. But Jo has seen a lot in the years she’s been on Earth, and if she can fire a gun and kill a demon, then who is he to tell her not to dance. Any other night, Dean would be so turned on that he’d have to walk away, but knowing what they’re staring down tomorrow, it just makes him sad.

Sam is watching, too, his eyes nervous, flitting from his beer bottle up to Jo and then back down, like he's not sure he has permission to enjoy it. Even Bobby is casting furtive glances as Jo sings softly to the music, twisting and swaying. If Ellen hadn’t fallen asleep an hour ago, Dean figures she’d skin the lot of them.

Castiel is the only one watching Jo as intently as Dean is. He’s leaning against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest, his eyes sliding up and down Jo’s slender body while she twirls and shimmies. He drinks her in with the same calm intensity that he has when he takes in the rest of the world around him. Dean figures that, to Castiel, she’s just another of God’s children.

She turns and fixes Castiel with a dark look that would be sultry if she was just a little more sober. Dean watches the exchange. At first Castiel does nothing, but when she crooks her finger to coax him closer, Castiel swallows hard and shifts on his feet as if weighing his options. He glances at Dean just long enough to see Dean arch an eyebrow, then he slowly crosses the room towards her.

Figures that the angel would be the one she would give up her self-respect for.

Jo keeps her eyes fixed on Castiel as he approaches. She splays her hands on her hips, rolls her shoulders, does everything Dean’s imagined in his dirtiest fantasies, all while Castiel stands and looks up at her with his signature impassive curiosity.

Dean laments for the wasted show and takes a pull on his beer.

Jo drops low, thighs splayed out on either side of him when he reaches the edge of the table, and Dean is tempted to look away. She wraps her hand up in his tie and pulls him closer.

“What you said before, about us all dying. Do you really believe that?” She whispers, their faces just inches part.

“Yes,” Castiel answers, his gaze moving from her eyes to her parted lips.

Dean hears the scrape of a chair and knows without looking that Sam left the room, having seen all that he could take. Dean knows he should probably go, too, leave them in privacy, but part of his brain can’t believe he’s really seeing what he’s seeing, so he stays and does his best to blend in with the decor.

It comes as a surprise to no one except Castiel when Jo leans in and kisses him. It’s sloppy and harsh, but she’s got a firm hold on his tie, so he can’t get away. She runs her other hand through his hair, leaving it sticking up at odd angles, then slings her arm around his shoulder. She tips forward enough to upset her balance and Castiel catches her on instinct, wrapping his arms around her waist.

Jo presses closer to Castiel, tries to grind their bodies together, but he backs away as much as her grip on his tie will allow. She frowns, and goes in for another kiss, but this time he brushes his fingers against her temple and she slumps against him, unconscious. Somewhere in that brief exchange Dean thinks that the whole thing shifted from being erotic to desperate, and he finds that he can’t blame her for wanting a little comfort before the lights go out.

Castiel scoops her up in his arms. Her head rests against his chest, and Dean can’t help but notice how tiny and fragile she looks. Castiel sees Dean looking and meets his gaze.

“She won’t remember any of this tomorrow,” Castiel explains as he looks down at her with affection. “I trust you won’t tell her. I don’t want her to be embarrassed by any perceived indiscretions.”

Dean nods. Castiel gives him a small smile and nods back, then heads off towards the stairs to put her to bed.


End file.
